


Get Sentimental

by LiztParadox



Series: The last angry words to Victor Zsasz [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: He falls for him here, M/M, Oswald's worry, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Victor got sentimental by killing some important guys, but he doesn't get it yet, english isn't my first langage so, few talk, lamme know if i wrote samething off, more writting, till talk with Penguim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiztParadox/pseuds/LiztParadox
Summary: After an order to kill the rest of Falcone's loyal followers, Victor is off of the lack of feelings.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot/Victor Zsasz
Series: The last angry words to Victor Zsasz [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043160
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Get Sentimental

After the small and pleasant chat with Camine's daughter the night was out of place as if were suspended in a vacuum. Not that Oswald isn't satisfied with the destruction of what was probably the last abandoned pillars of Falcone's fallen kingdom. But yes: inside Oswald were beating a heart in timid pain overconfidence. About Sofia, who he foolishly would long to create brotherhood bonds; about his respect for Camine. Furthermore, for the shadow in the gloom of the nightclub room.

With the glass of whiskey in hand he let his tired tongue come loose.

\- Burred seven feet in the ground, the blood of your boss' last important followers lies in my hands. I'm afraid they are also yours, Victor.

For the observer, it was a cue. Not quite comfortable to get into a conversation right now; murdering used to be very pleasurable at times. The silhouette of the little bird vibrated on bacon's corner, and for the first time, Victor hesitated. He inhaled and let out a breath, an air of cramping.

The steps till the balcony were slow, the less attuned and more unknown would say they were for hunting, and indeed they seemed to be. Oswald felt cold in his guts, but the alcohol stirred them down and comforted them as Zsasz approached.

\- Boss.

Half a bitter grin painted Oswald as the fear he felt fell gone by his employes respectful stamp, as always.

Victor is essentially sluggish for human interactions and his relationship history is very simplistic, feeling a lack of empathy for strangers, a heady notion of physical and emotional contacts. This does not apply him to be as selfish about those "closer" to him or even delaying his attempts attuning himself to them.

Despite the discomfort, in some strange way, part of his essence still naturally directed itself towards trying to tune in with Oswald's. He noticed the half moon's distaste in these thin red lips and he frowned at it.

\- Problems, boss?

He turned his face, pain clearly exposed to Zsasz. The blue neon pool light made him even more attractive, Victor thought, unfortunately, the boss' face was on a bad signal. Then Victor snapped his fingers and the bartender woke up in a transparent rush, very afraid.

As the man pulled the bench next to his birdy, Oswald confessed a few words.

Victor looked at him.

"I don't like her", said Zsasz.

An unexpected comment for Cobblepot indeed as he was talking to him about Falcone's ruin in a very sincere way which he was expecting to listen to while extremely being cut off in the middle of the speech. And did he like Sofia? I mean, not quite but was almost there, and when someone seems to have the potential for something you aren't very willing to say out loud, hearing that your most important employer didn't like her is ... annoying, to say the least.

But Victor Zsasz was often irritating. So annoying that was okay for him to say something stupid or uneasy. Or kid, he kids a lot. Oswald only managed to contract his lips and close his eyes, which would make the other man have a bastard smile but he was fulfilling both glasses with more whiskey.

"She just arrived, Victor! Anyone like her. Also, she doesn't know how Gotham works. Well ... I know-how; so I did a little demonstration to her as you see."

In the end, traces of two bald brow rose affected. Oswald wondered if he knew he had shown it, or if he knew it had affected him at all, it seems to have. And his fear proved to be real. 

Oswald fell silent, guilty. A little regretted but not willing to go back in time to change the deed: if he has the chance, would do the same thing. Maybe he would just send someone else to do it, but then he may have to tell Victor anyway. He thought about it before he had done what he did, but a part of him needed assurance by the bald man's loyalty. By Victor Zsasz.

And what he is the most, is loyal.

Oswald swallowed. Victor sipped the whiskey wanting something sweeter.

" You could have killed her.", he confesses.

Even though it wasn't the truth but a desire, just a misdirected desire. And what is the root? Victor doesn't know. Except that Sofia Falcone, despite being the daughter of the man he most respected in life, made his stomach turn to the point of making him want to vomit blood out of anger. And she was getting closer and closer, not in slow steps but on a crazy marathon. As if she wanted to blow it all up any soon. Penguin didn't see it, Victor didn't even know if it was true, there is no evidence that he wasn't getting paranoid even.

Oswald doesn't stress his lips, he just closes his eyes tightly. Wanting to throw the image of the familiar face away. Blackout. He also shakes his head and shrugs.

Betrayed by everyone but remaining sane enough to try to be different from them, Falcone could still have killed him, but the old man decided to leave the city and prevent Gotham from being a force of coagulated blood. He avoided a war, and it deserves respect.

He can't think about killing her, not yet.

"She is the daughter of Don Falcone. I can't do that, Victor. You know that more than anyone. I want you to know that I could have killed his followers a long time ago, but I preferred to leave them alone. Carmine is a good businessman and a man of his word. But I've never thought he would be back.

\- I know. But he didn't come back, Sofia did.

\- I wonder if he agreed with that.

Despite the almost certainty that Camine had not granted permission, Victor remained silent, at least for now. Not because he preferred him but because it had a slight pleasant sensation in the nostrils, and certainly wasn't the whisk thing. It was more ticklish, like a melody running through his skin till the epidermis as if your body were a disco, and a good one. He raised his eyebrows at the new delicious sensation. He looked at him.

Cobblepot's eyes already fixed on his face tried to change focus to the glass. The little bird looked ... uncomfortable?

Understandable that he was even more uncomfortable for that: Victor stared at him for too long trying to know what he was thinking about. While that time passes like slow and strange torture, Cobblepot rolled his glass, pressing his lips against each other inward, in an internal kiss which he deliberately touched with a loving tongue, much more loving than he wanted. He also closed his eyes and noticed what he had done shortly after, and wished that Victor would only understand it as sadness, even regret, whatever.

\- Boss, are you ... worried about me? 'bout me killing my ex-boss' men that stayed in town?

Oswald looked at him in surprise. Fish mouth, eyes wide. An awkward smile appeared on his face. Yes, that was that he was worried that he had asked too much while knowing Victor.

He didn't notice anything is a bit frustrating though, but not the worst option. The worst option is he noticing and Oswald losing the only person who can be loyal in this city.

\- Of course, Victor! You are my subordinate. I was afraid you would be more affected than I expected since there are jobs that you just don't have to do.

It affected Victor thought to himself, happy that it was easier to score and name the feeling now that Oswald was worried. Oswald is actually cheering him up!

\- I like to do what I do.

Oswald smiled relieved. 

\- Well... I, well, understood, also, it's comforting knowing I don't have to worry about rivals.

-Rivals?

Thus there was little space between them, Victor stretched closer, taking his chair. His eyebrows furrowed with attention. Now he was sitting turned to the parlor, but his face turned to Oswald who swallowed the liquid residue in his mouth with absurd difficulty.

\- W-what am I ... What am I saying is.

...

\- Is?

They arms touched.

\- Nothing. - he actually forgot what to say.

Because Oswald fully expected Zsasz wasn't flirting to him with such intense eyes. He looks like a psychopath!

Zsasz could be covered for many things but flushed cheeks were usually obvious for communication. It wasn't "nothing", he thinks, and he liked the feeling of it. 

And anyone that makes him feel like this makes him want to suddenly fuck.

And it's not the first time that it happens for the little funny penguin.

Furthermore, whatever it is to Oswald Cobblepot, the delicate little bird who has succeeded and remains The King of Gotham has spent some time thinking about his person and his well-being. Victor was sure that this was something that his bosses rarely did, and he got warm, docile he wonder, upon the thought that he could be part of the small, tiny portion of people Oswald could feel attached to.

And that's the new's paper.

Then he stretched his lips, the way he normally does, and hardly ever notices the horrible intensity of; getting more excited by the color of the Penguin's cheeks getting worse and worse.

After flirting he was fun of his face! How obviously, Penguin thought. And nobody makes fun of his face like that. Make him looked like a fool. Oswald withdrew his arm from the closeness of Victor and pouted like a child because he had misunderstood Victor's intentions in the end.

He spoke to the other as if he were fighting in a childhood playground.

\- I said it was nothing! Whatever it was, I forgot and it will never come back to my mind again, Victor; And it's all your fault!

Victor, of course, raised both eyebrows, or what they were supposed to be, in admired debauch's a common sign. And Oswald knows him well enough to understand that Victor Zsasz should not be wound up. But what was he supposed to do but join?

They are like children together (murderers or not) as they're slowly falling each meeting.


End file.
